


The Wing of the Angel's Raiment

by 100pureawesomeness



Series: Tsubasa [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, OC, Other, Police Procedural, Queer Character, Reincarnation, SI, SI-OC, Self-Insert, Uchiha Daichi is a blessing, Worldbuilding, bye-bye canon, shared trauma as bonding, some Uchiha are a tad arrogant, there's been way too much research into this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:40:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22064164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/100pureawesomeness/pseuds/100pureawesomeness
Summary: Being transported into another world is not a new concept, but somehow, a world with magic, ninja and shitty police work was not what they expected. What a fucking bother, they have a shit load of work ahead of them.Or: Tsubasa is reincarnated later and far beyond the point of no return and has to work with what they've got, no get-of-jail-free-card and no foreknowledge.
Relationships: Undecided
Series: Tsubasa [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1572178
Comments: 11
Kudos: 56





	1. Cypress and Sakura

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cypress, in the Victorian language of flowers, means mourning.  
> Sakura, in Hanakotoba, means transience of life.
> 
> Or:  
> Sometimes death just keeps taking even in an afterlife and life moves on but life is about the little joys.

Hagoromo Tsubasa, the bastard heir to a dying clan. Too smart for their own good, too dumb for their own good. Their parents were shinobi for the Village Hidden In The Leaves, a jounin and a tokubetsu jounin. Hagoromo Ageha, their mother, was born to the head of the Hagoromo clan. That they knew since they could understand the stilted formal (it was almost like listening to old English) Japanese. Their father, named Syaoron, was born in the Village Hidden Among The Stars (Hoshigakure) and lived as an orphan until he became a shinobi. They met in what was basically Las Vegas the Shinobi Edition and somehow (they’d have to do a lot of digging but they were sure they could get the details) ended up meeting again, bought a house in the Leaf (Konoha), with Syaron became a citizen of the Leaf (Konoha, god, they were really going to have to work on that), and finally having Tsubasa. Without getting married. 

Iconic.

Then the two died within a week of each other on separate missions and Tsubasa was left on their own. 

Which was, admittedly, kinda wack, now that Tsubasa thought of it within the context of their former life’s memories. 

A child left to their own devices?

Wack. 

Dead parents and no care? 

Wack.

No social worker showing up taking them to the orphanage? 

Wack.

And regardless of how utterly WACK it was that their parents died within a week of each other 

Were they murdered? Mayhaps.

Was Tsubasa struggling emotionally trying to deal with a lifetime of memories, a death and their parental units deaths twice over? Also a circled mayhaps.

But they made a shrine for their dear-and-now-deceased parents, lit some incense, cried and then promptly got out of the house to buy groceries; the memories that poured into their mind after the news of their parents deaths gave them perspective that they’d (probably) be dead without. 

It was the collective memory of their last life. A rather civilian life, amidst the murder, drugs, war and so on. They had been a writer, and loved it. Detective stories were especially fun, murder could be so interesting. Motive, method, place, and person. Why, how, where, when and who. 

But at four and three months or so, Tsubasa was no longer quite the same, living in a ninja village would do that after all. They were paranoid, or rather, vigilant, well aware of the missing children due to an orphan who stayed with his sister near the grocery store owned by Hamiwara Genji, a pig of a man Tsubasa had only ever seen once. 

There was a reason they preferred to get their groceries at the Uchiha market and it wasn’t just because of Ya-obba san and her tendency to give them free samples and free sweets. 

Regardless, Konoha had some child trafficking problems and no one in power seemed to care ‘cause it was orphans, homeless children and bastard children from the red light district.

Shocking. 

Now, Tsubasa was an orphan and while their parents had both been rather important, big names, there just wasn’t anyone accounting for them anymore. 

Which meant they could suddenly disappear and no one would be the wiser.

Despite this, the black haired child stood in front of the Yamanaka flower shop once more, which also happened to be one of four (there also was an Uchiha flower shop that specialised in rarer flowers) others. This was however was unique in that it was the closest to their home. 

“Little bird! How nice to see you again!” The blonde woman greeted from behind the counter, “What are you here for?”

“Some shion? Just a single bushel will do,” their pale pink lips quirked upward as they pulled out their black cat (leather with pretty green dyed eyes, that was supposed to be a gift for their seventh brithday) wallet, “How much?”

“Four thousand ryo,” she cheered. 

They knitted their eyebrows, “I thought it was eight?”

“Is it?” This was some kind of reverse scam. She was trying to weasel of getting more money. 

“Yes, I’m sure of it,” they nodded slowly, “In fact, I have the receipts-” they reached into their wallet only to find the receipts gone, “uh.”

A faux frown settled on her face as a glint in her eye caught their own.

“It seems you don’t have the receipts on you, ne?” She knew that they knew what she was doing. 

They decided that this was probably where she was getting her kicks. 

Tormenting orphans that hadn’t publicised the fact that they were orphans and saving them money.

For shame.

“So it seems, Yamanaka-san,” they resisted the urge to smirk, “Four ryo.”

She accepted with a bright smile and “Here is your bushel of shion, little bird.”

Tsubasa nodded their thanks and made their way to the KIA memorial, admiring the scenery around them.

Konohagakure was a fun mix of western and eastern influences. The way the buildings were coloured and stacked reminded them of Italy, the billboards having ads just like those by the side of the roads on the West, yet there was also something distinctly Eastern about the architecture. 

And, obviously, the fact that all the signs were in Japanese.

It was a pretty cool place to be reincarnated into, all things considered. 

If one ignored the politics and the-

Actually, the politics were the biggest thing for Tsubasa. They could understand the assassination, spying, stealing, torture; all pretty standerd fare for most places at any time. It was just a matter of publicity. And the world they lived in had no trouble admitting that shinobi were vital. 

Well, maybe some civilians did, but Tsubasa was pretty okay with it.

If, you know, many of the shinobi in Konoha’s force weren’t literal child soldiers.

But maybe that was the aforementioned previous civilian life. Carried over morals and ideologies. 

Ha. They would always hold some of their old ideals, rooted in practicality and logic and compassion. (Hopefully.)

Tsubasa placed the bushel of shion in front of the memorial and sat in seiza, pushing their hands together in prayer.

In their last life, their parents had died when the were young but they were taken in by family and so their family ended up having three mothers and a father.The deaths of their biological parents wounded them, definitely the cause of some trauma that never healed but rather like a scar, became livable and mostly out of mind. But this time around?

Their parents had left them alone from a young age, inching towards what would be neglect, they had little interaction with people, aside from the Yamanaka lady (who they had met when their mother dragged them to the memorial at the age of two for their grandparents who were, once again, dead before they were born, fucking mint), Ya-obasan and the two shinobi who delivered the death scrolls.

The problems this go around may be worse but they’d be damned if they would not persevere through sheer spite.

“What’s a kid like you doing here?” A deep voice, likely male but assuming ‘makes an ass out of you and me’ (which didn’t work in Japanese but fuck if they gave a… fuck). 

They peeked open one eye, keeping their hands in position and studied the interruption. 

They had silver hair, much like their own when it was longer than an inch, that stood up in a spiked up fashion. They had one half lidded dark grey eye visible, the other covered by a leaf hitai-ate, and wore a gray mask. 

They looked young though, maybe seventeen or so? Twelve?

So-

“Ditto.”

They blinked (winked?).

“Are you calling me a kid?”

“Are you not?”

They blinked (Tsubasa still wasn’t sure if it was winking or blinking and it was kind of irritating) and let out a low chuckle. 

“I’m a shinobi,” they responded as if that was an answer.

“Are you twenty? If older, then yeah but if you’re younger than that you’re still a kid!”

“I’m eighteen,” they said slowly, as if contemplating Tsubasa’s words.

“Yatta?” Tsubasa tried to congratulate the kid with a smile and jazz hands. 

They snorted and shook their head.

“Come on, kid, let’s get you home.”

“Hai!” Tsubasa cheered, sprinting toward their home, “See ya shinobi-san!” 

As Tsubasa ran, several thoughts floated through their mind, the most prominent being that the shinobi they talked with would remember them but would be unlikely to follow them home. A plus, they still hadn’t changed their record and while the house was paid for… They were pretty sure Konoha had laws against children (if they weren’t shinobi) living on their own.

But shinobi didn’t really care about the citizens, that all fell on the police force. 

All the police members they had run in with were Uchiha, and some were nicer than others. 

Tsubasa kind of wanted to join the force.

Standard hours, in village work, mystery, lunch breaks, paid vacation...

“Tsu-chan! There you are! I was worried about you!” They paused as they reached their house to see Uchiha Akira, their neighbor to the right, with a member of the police force. 

“I’m sorry, I was just out getting some flowers, what’s up?” They smiled brightly.

She ran up and hugged them.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice! I’m sorry you’ve been alone all this time!”

They frowned. It had only been a week or so max since the body scrolls had been delivered, it really wasn’t a big deal. 

“It’s okay, Tsubasa, it’s okay. You can cry. You’re safe.”

And that was when they felt their eyes water, cloud with tears they had been holding back. 

—

Once Tsubasa had calmed down, they realised that the officer was still there.

Whoops.

They had the typically Uchiha eyes, brown hair the colour of mud, that was about chin length and no wrinkles. Maybe twenty five or so? Age was a little hard in this world.

“Hey, Officer-san,” they paused to hear a noise of confirmation, “Why are you here?” 

“Officer Uchiha Daichi is here to help you with the legal things. He’ll be taking you to the Hokage for that,” Akira spoke to the point, simple words. Easily understood and no double meaning. Still, a glance at the sky and the sun told Tsubasa it was only five in the afternoon. 

“When?” They turned back to the two adults. The male seemed to be mulling something over.

“Tomorrow morning,” he paused, “We’ll leave at about nine. Akira and I will be staying the night with you so you’ll be safe, okay? You’re not alone.”

Daichi seemed to be like most of the Uchiha, stuck-up, stern, and/or arrogant, but upon closer inspection he was just awkward. His intentions were positive and protective. 

Tsubasa smiled, their eyes a tad watery, “Thank you Daichi-san, Akira-san, I’m very thankful for this.”

Akira giggled and held them tight. 

“It’s no problem at all, little bird!”

__

The next morning Tsubasa awoke to the sun shining and birds chirping outside. 

But there were no crows cawing, no sounds of rain, and no cat. It was times like this they missed their last life. 

“Ohayō gozaimasu, Tsubasa,” Daichi-san greeted softly with a resting bitchface (did all Uchihas have resting bitchfaces, was that the source of all their problems?), “Akira is at her house prepping some meals for you, which you’ll get regardless of whatever happens.”

They nodded, mulling over their thoughts.

“And what do those possibilities look like?” 

He sighed and sat on the wooden floor. 

“Well, the first option is you have a guardian and either live with them or here, Option B, you join the academy early and live here on your own with an orphans stipend and likely a check in monthly or weekly with a guardian, and Option C, you get adopted.”

They frowned. Option A wasn’t bad, but they had no idea who it might be, yet Option B also wasn’t all that great. 

They groaned. 

Another beat.

Adoption?

Tsubasa promptly turned over and screamed into their pillow.

“I hate this shituation,” they mumbled in English, or apparently Kumo (or what that the name of the village?) according to the books in their library.

Daichi laughed, but quickly sobered up, “Did your parents teach you Uzu, Tsubasa?” (Uzu?)

“A bit,” Not a lie. Ageha and Syaran hadn’t taught them intentionally by any means though. Weren’t there enough to teach them anything beyond Mama and Papa. God, it was amazing they knew anything. Oh, wait, they didn’t until their memories returned to them. 

“Where did you learn it?”

“Is my last life an acceptable answer?” They half joked, in English, because speaking in, well, what they knew as Japanese was much harder for their little brain .

His eyes went red- literally red- holy fuck- and he spoke harshly.

“Tsubasa are you telling me you know the language of a deseaced culture because you remember your past life?”

“H-hai!” they stuttered, speaking without thinking.

Daich let out a heavy sigh.

“Don’t ever tell anyone. Kuso,” he ran his hands through his rather pretty dark hair, “That complicates things.”

Tsubasa shrugged.

“Does it? I’m not that weird, shinobi children develop fast and there’s now way I’m the fastest or youngest. There’s always child geniuses. And while there’s things I eccel at I’m still not great at everything so,” they gave a ‘what can you do?’ 

His dark grey eyes narrowed, reminding Tsubasa of steel. They felt as sharp anyway. 

“Tsubasa, you have been alone often, people close to you have died and your seperated from most of what you remember. You need someone to support you, regardless of whether or not you’ll be a shinobi.”

They pursed their lips. 

“I only remembered when I got my dad's body scroll. I think it was the trauma of losing someone.”

Daichi scoffed, “See kid, trauma,” a beat, “You… you’re traumatised. And that's okay.”

“Yeah,” they nodded slowly. They were sure in their last life they had gone through something similar, so theorheticaly, they should be used to it, but an itching in the back of their mind whispered that it doesnt work like that. 

“Loss doesn’t get easier. You just learn how to handle it.”

“Yeah.”

“And it’s okay if you’re not sure how to handle their deaths. You’re a kid, regardless of a previous life.”

Mental disannounce, they considered. They felt older than they were, a world weariness in their bones.

But their brain and body were still young. 

“Yeah.”

A silence fell between the pair before Daichi glanced at the clock and sighed.

“Time to get dressed kiddo. Are you going to need any help?”

They pondered. They had easy to reach shorts and a shirt, no socks since they wore sandals (which seemed so impractical but go off, they supposed) but they wouldn’t be able to reach a jacket. 

Did they need one?

Better safe than sorry, Fire Country- sorry, Hi no Kuni- was a lot like the US’ midwest, Humid, wet, cold, dry, a roll of the dice how it was going to go.

“I’ll need your help getting a jacket.”

The Uchiha nodded and left the room.

___

The old man in front of them looked like the years he had lived were carved in his face and all the regrets were deep within. 

“So you’re the bossman, ne?” They grinned becuase 

He chuckled and replied with a confirmation. 

“Tsubasa, do you know why you’re here?”

They hummed noncommittally, taking a look at the office of the Great Sandaime Hokage. It like any other office.

Boring. Dull. 

“You didn’t inform anyone that your parents had passed.”

“I was the one informed, I wasn’t made aware that I had any informing to do.”

They sighed internally. Honestly, whatever point he wanted to make, he should make it. And sooner, rather than later.

“Do you know where your parents will is?”

Ooh! 

A fun question! 

“Is there not one on file?”

He sighed and shook his head.

“There is not. And many of your parents friends-”

“Are avaliable since they have their own kids or are dead, I’m aware. Still, the fact remains that they don’t have a will on file. Was this on purpose or is it just their personal preference?”

Now the old man looked even older, which first of all, wack, second of all, cool, and third of all, could they, could they learn that?

“It seems as though the will has gone missing.”

“Oh!” Tsubasa tried to contain their grin and obvious amusement, “Is there going to be an investigation? Can I help look for clues? You don’t think they were murdered do you? Did they have anything valuable associated with them, heirlooms, buttload of money, land? Any enemies-”

“Tsubasa, please calm down,” he held up a hand, and took a deep breath in, “Now where did you learn about police procedure?”

“Books! I like mystery stories!”

A technical truth, ignoring the fact it was books, movies and news in a previous life. 

‘The best lies, Tsubasa, are half turths.’

“Are you very good at reading?” He asked, smiling indulgently. 

Tsubasa grinned.

“Very! Papa made sure I knew how!”

Probably.

The old man nodded slowly, much like a grandpa. Was he a grandpa?

“What would you like to do for the future, Tsubasa?”

“I wanna be a ninja! And then I wanna be on the police force!”

“I meant for your housing,” he chuckled.

“I wanna live at home…I don’t really know any of Papa or Mama’s friends that well…” A beat. “I do know Akira and Daichi! Oh! And Yamanaka-san at the flower shop!”

“Hm…” he tapped his chin three times, “How about I put out some feelers and see what pops up?”

Tsubasa nodded eagerly, this meant they had some more time to make some decisions.

“And how about in the meantime, you’ll stay at your home and I’ll have Daichi-san stay with you.”

“Really?” They jumped, but quickly shrunk back, “I mean, if he wants to, I don’t want to force him, being a policeman is very important and cool-”

The old man held his hand up. 

“I’ll ask him right now, okay?”

Should they be in the room? Would that put pressure on Daichi to accept? But if they weren’t there, who’s to say they wouldn’t threaten Daichi.

Oh no.

They’d gotten attached. 

“Okay.”

“Neko, please let Uchiha Daichi in.”

A shinobi appeared and opened the door, disappearing for a second and reappearing with Daichi.

‘Everything go okay?’ he seemed to ask to which they answered with a look that conveyed ‘Kami-sama knows’. 

Diachi turned his attention to the Hokage with a bow.

“Hokage-sama,” he greeted, voice dead.

Impressive.

“Tsubasa, would you like to ask or would you like me to?”

Their face went crimson.

How fucking ballsy.

Wait.

Was this even legal?

Fuck, too late to ask now.

“I can,” they looked Daichi in the eyes, trying to convey their sincerity, “I was wondering if you would be okay with being stationed as my guardian until there’s more information about the situation?”

Daichi studied them for a moment.

“Yes,” he turned back to the Hokage, “I will also offer to take in Tsubasa if it comes to that.”

The old man grinned. 

“Excellent, I’ll see you two in a month.”

A month!

A whole goddamn month for what?!

—-


	2. Bay Leaf and Shiragiku

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bay Leaf in the Victorian language of flowers means: I change but in death.  
> Shiragiku in Hanakotoba means truth.
> 
> Or:  
> Sometimes death is the biggest catalyst for seeking the truth of living

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meant to publish this the first of February but research got the better of me. Am I needlessly poetic with the chapter summary? Probably.

What happened after the meeting was kind of a blur, but Tsubasa knew three things.  
One: Uchiha Daichi was a wonderful man and definitely deserved the world.  
Two: Ramen was just as good as Tsubasa remembered.  
Three: Stress took a toll on energy.

The following day, after fourteen hours of sleep, Tsubasa found themself in the bullpen of the Konoha Police Force building and found the reason behind a whole month before their next visit with the Hokage.

“Hey, Daichi?”

He hummed.

“Why are there only Uchiha on the Konoha Police Force? It seems like… se-ger-ga-tion?” they mumbled, “Like a power-” they flayed their right hand and tipped it side to side.

“Imbalance? Yeah, there’s some feelings about that.”

They scrunched their nose.  
“Seems dangerous. I caught some of the looks you got too. Something’s wack.”

He smiled slightly, “Book?”

“I feel it in my bones,” they grinned up at him.

Daichi snorted and led them through a little gate (like the ones for children and dogs in their last life) and a sea of desks occupied by Uchiha of various temperaments and down the first hall into the second room on the right.

“Ah, Daichi. I was wondering when you would show up, I’ve got the files,” a person sitting in the, as they were able to figure out, the interrogation room looked up, “Is that the kid?”

“Yeah, they’re staying with me until we get this case squared away,” Daichi put his hand on their head, “Akito meet Tsubasa, Tsubasa this is Uchiha Akito, he’s the detective in charge of your parents’ case.”

They noted Akito’s brown hair and dark eyes, pale skin (standard for an Uchiha) and a light smile on his face that seemed smug and vaguely assholish.

He gave an almost Jason Dean vibe.  
Not good.

“Cool cool,” they nodded and sat down in the chair, looking at the papers on the table. Kinda useless. Guess they would come back to that later, “So anyway, my biggest question is motive. Why my parents?”

Akito and Daichi exchanged a look before the former opened the folder on the desk, his assholish smile gone and now replaced with a patronising tone.

“Your mother, Hagoromo Ageha, was the heir to the Hagoromo clan and an A-rank shinobi. By all means there should be a connection there but there’s no leads, even through her last mission. However,” he pulled out a photo of their father, “Syaoran of the Stars was an orphan and an immigrant. So there’s even less motivation there. It seems to be an accident and a coincidence.”

Tsubasa stared at the man.

The man in charge of their parents’ case.

“Are you always this dumb or is this a special circumstance? Are you being bribed?”

“Tsubasa!” Daichi scolded, as though scandalised.

“No, I think this needs to be said. Your method of looking at this is completely wrong,” they groaned, switching to english, “Sweet Amateresu, how have all of you managed this long? Is there no order?”

“Tsubasa!”

“No! I am taking over! Paper! Pen!” They snapped their fingers, looking to Akito expectantly, “Well? Get to it!”

The man quickly stumbled out, not fast enough for the little black haired kid but at least out of the room. They considered that it wasn’t actually a JD aura but rather an Anderson aura. Dumb, arrogant and useless. It surprised Tsubasa that the man had even become a chūnin but maybe standards were low in wartime. That was a thing right?

Tsubasa released a sound of frustration and made their way back to the bullpen, Daichi following after them with a sigh.

“I need the autopsy report, a list of all possible enemies in and out of the village, the known estate, alibis, any witnesses, the scene of the death for Hagoromo Ageha and Konohagakure no Syaoran!”

The bullpen froze at the five year old giving orders and looking like they were ready to stab a bitch.

“Now!”

The KMPF members, aside from Daichi, all flew into action.

“Here’s the autopsy report, taicho!” A woman Diachi knew to be in the records department, a paperwork nin, named Fukiko bowed.

“Here’s the mission reports!” Another paperwork nin, a man named Watoshi, bowed while holding out the paper.

Another paperwork nin, Mika, offered their paperwork, which was the report from the scene of death for both parties.

Tsubasa looked over each of the papers briefly, seeing that it was at least the actual reports in the correct forms, they placed them into the file.

“Tsubasa-taicho, here is the last available record of estate from the bank!” A nin ran in, a Chūnin level kunoichi named Ukiyo.

The child nodded and accepted them with a quiet thanks.

A house, another house, some estate in Bear, shit ton of money, blah blah blah.

“Here’s a started list of enemies, Tsubasa-taicho!” Weiwei, a kunoichi who had only been working for the KMPF for two months, bowed.

“Started?”

“Hai, Tsubasa-taicho! It wasn't deemed important to the investigation so it was not pursued, Tsubasa-taicho!”

They stared at the woman as they processed the situation.

“Fuck. I might have to do some revamping,” they muttered to themself in English (although they supposed it was technically Kumo) before booming out, “Alright. There’s a deadline of a month on this case, so I’m going to need a team of people who are willing to follow my orders.”

Instantly, all of the paperwork nin started clambering to assist, the whole bullpen erupting into chaos.

Tsubasa let a little whine out before turning to Daichi.

“Where is the briefing room?” they glanced at him, “I’ve got to go over everything and delegate. God, how does this place even run?”

“Would you like to see protocol?”

“Fuck,” the four year old (and wow that was weird) groaned, “Let’s go over it in the briefing room.”

Daichi gave them a small smile, and led the way across the sea of paperwork nin into the briefing room that was roughly five meters by twelve meters. The walls were the same blue concrete that the rest of the building existed in and had four rows and two columns of boring, standard wooden tables.

Bleh.  
“Alright! Those of you free enough to help me with this case, meet in the briefing room!” Almost immediately, two dozen or so paperpusher's followed them, almost eagerly and sat down in the chairs at the tables, some standing in the back.

Tsubasa stood behind the (very nice and- was that mahogany?!) podium and drew upon their age old skill of projecting, “Alright sluts, what have we got?”

A chunin (based on their chakra, and uniform; the flak jacket that was given to chunin that even if most jonin wore it it was primarily chunin and their chakra was smaller than a jonins) “Hagormo Ageha, age twenty eight was on a B-rank mission alone, the released information is that it was to recover a scroll from an informant. The mission was completed but Hagoromo-san did not return. Her body was found within twelve hours of the mission being registered as a complete on the fifth day of Kaminazuki at 1300. She was seen coming into the village at 1200, and it was confirmed to be in fact her signature.The cause of death is recorded as natural causes.”

“Where was her body found?”

“About a hundred meters outside the village near the Naka River. There were several other bodies found but they were of no relation.”

Tsubasa groaned internally. Was no one thorough in their investigations? Kami, how the fuck did anything get done?  
“Were the bodies identified and examined by a medical examiner?”  
“No, Hagoromo-sama. There are none in the police force,” another chunin, Satoshi, spoke up from the back row.

“That will have to be remedied, for the safety of everyone in the village. Are there any periods?” They ran their hands through their short hair.

“There’s one in ANBU, two Inuzuka chunin, and one Nara jōnin.”

Wack.

“And as shinobi, we provide not only for the Leaf but the villages outside it, ne?”

“Hai, Hagoromo-sama.”

What the literal fuck. There were two (2) in your city, two (2) assistants, five (5) investigators and one (1) substitute investigator and that wasn’t even the whole state! That’s fucking-

“I want someone to put in a request for any of their services, I will foot the bill need be, though I would very much prefer that it comes from the budget of the police force but I suddenly don’t know if there’s even one at all.”

“There is,” Daichi whispered, his voice stiff.

“Well, thank fuck for that. Small mercies,” they muttered in English, “What can anyone tell me about my father’s death?”

A chūnin stood up, Uchiha Jinko, “Syaoran of the Stars was found dead of downing at approximately 600 in the Naka River, face down. Nearby was an identified body and several scrolls. ANBU has laid claim on this body. His mission was not recorded publicly and ”

“Laid claim?” They arched an eyebrow.

“No further information was given by ANBU Leopard. They took the body and left my team and I. We were able to use our Sharingan to record the scene.”

“Is that protocol?”

“No, Hagoromo-sama,” he shook his head.

They resisted the urge to groan, just barely.  
“It should be. Were the bodies from my mother’s case also claimed?”

“Yes, T&I claimed them, Hagormo-sama,” the chunin who had reported their mother case stood up.  
`  
“Okay,” they took a sip of tea as they mulled over the information, “I want all the records of murders within the last twenty years, records of deaths of shinobi and civilians with children and records of any missing persons,” they sighed, “I will compile a list of all the missing children. And of course, the previously mentioned autopsies.” They rubbed their cup.

“Why are we doing this, Hagoromo-sama?” Another (Ukiyo) chunin asked

“To find a pattern,” they sipped their tea, a pleasant peppermint with fresh mint. Yum. “Once you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, is the answer,” they looked behind themselves at the blank wall, “Also is anyone into graphic design? I want pictures of the crime scene, drawn from Sharingan or otherwise,” they waved their hand back and forth, “for the Hagoromo couple and relevant information on a board and then we’ll draw connections from there. ”

“I am, Hagoromo-sama!” A Uchiha stood up.

“And you are?”

“Uchiha Kou, Hagoromo-sama.”

They stared at her for a bit and they swished their cup.  
She stood firm, not flinching, not moving.

“Yeah, that’ll work. Get started after we’re done here” Tsubasa nodded as they spoke before addressing everyone else again, “When I return in two days, I’d like to see everything. I would hate to be dissapointed.”

The room felt tense? Anticipation?  
Ah.

“You are all dismissed,” they waved a hand and immediately everyone started moving out as a herd.

They took a breath in and exhaled heavily, before chugging the rest of their tea.

“Tsubasa?” They heard Daichi ask.

“Yeah?”

He sighed.

“Let’s go get lunch.”

Lunch?  
They looked for a clock but were interped by being picked up and thrown over the elder Uchiha’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carried through the office, through the village, to an Akimichi civilian family restaurant called Kishimoto, where he finally set them down in a seat and sat in front of them.

“Have you ever heard of discretion, Tsubasa?”

“Oh?” they gave an impish grin, “Discretion? I don’t know her.”

If Tsubasa were to describe the full face journey that the rather stoic Uchiha (although was he really?) went through (which there was no way they could ever verbally, they’d burst into laughter) it would be acknowledgement, pause, confusion, deadpan and a tightly pressed lips (almost like he was constipated) to prevent a sigh.

“I am wondering, if perhaps, you are not going to hold anything back.”

“Ano, hold back what?” They arch an eyebrow.

Daichi sighed but sipped his coffee (which, one, wack. And two, they had a shitload of research ahead of themself, didn’t they?).

“They followed you because you seemed older. Most prodigies don’t elicit that response.”

“Ah, but see, I am not a prodigy. I am but a child in a baby’s body.”

At this Daichi looked at them instead of the dark depths of his coffee.  
“What?”

They shrugged, “You’re not an adult till your brain fully develops, and it was twenty-five when I was alive. I died at twenty-four.”

“I’m twenty-one,” the Uchiha supplied seemingly without thought.

“A child,” pouring themself some tea. It smelled good.

Daichi stared at them before rubbing his temples.

“Was that a common view when you grew up?”

They barely resisted the urge to snicker.  
“Nah, not until I was eighteen? And went from being a kid and suddenly an adult and nothing had changed in eight years other than character development.”

“That’s called getting older.”

“Shh… It’s character development,” Tsubasa sipped the tea, matcha. It was… okay.  
They would have to have hojicha soon (if it existed) and see if they still liked it.

He sighed and opened his mouth to speak again but couldn’t as the waitress arrived.  
(Was that etiquette in Konoha? They could have sworn in Japan you had to wave down your waitress… bah, what did they know.)

“Hello, do you two know what you would like to order?”

“Two orders of udon and an order of sake.”

The waitress nodded, disappearing and reappearing with sake, before dashing off once more.

“Sake so early in the morning? Is that allowed?”

“Tsubasa, mind yourself,” he scolded. Or tried to. It felt more like a gentle suggestion.

“Maa, so aggressive to a four year old, Daichi. Whatever will the civilians think?” They raised their eyebrows pouting in faux innocence.

“I should have handed you off to Genma. He knows how to handle brats like you,” he took a shot (although they were pretty sure that was not how to drink sake, they’d drink anything like that so they couldn’t judge).

“Genma?” They sipped their tea. Still disappointing.

“A friend of mine. He’s known for taking in strays,” he dramatically looked out the window, “He’s got four or so, another one wouldn’t make a difference.”

They scrunch their nose, “But Daichi, I’m an only child.”

At this he seemed confused, “What does that have to do with anything?”

“I do not share my parents time,” they grinned impishly, closing their eyes (they actually looked super cute like this, not that Tsubasa looked in the mirror for hours making different facial expressions), “I’m very spoiled,” they paused, “Also I don’t know him.”  
He sighed and combed through his dark hair, making Tsubasa absentmindedly wonder if they could actually pass as blood relatives, “Genma is much better with children than I am, Tsubasa.”

“Ah, but I’m not a normal kid. I’m like a chaotic dumbass. I’m not much different than an eleven year old except I can effectively communicate my feelings.”

“Chaotic dumbass?”

“DnD,” they paused, tapping their chin, “Damn, I guess that wouldn’t exist would it?”

“What was it?” Daichi asked, heastitation apparent, but the way his eyes lit up in curiosity told Tsubasa all they needed to know.

“A table top role playing game. I liked it,” they drew figures on the table ignoring daichi’s eyes on them, “Could probably make a version for here.”

“Role-”

“Here are the two orders of chicken udon, is that all?” The waitress asked.

“More sake please,” Daichi nodded waving his hand and she disappeared and reappeared quicker than Tsubasa could register with more sake, “Thank you. That is all.” and she dashed away once more.

“Do all restaurants work like this?” It seemed pretty Western to Tsubasa, but what did they know?

“No,” was all he said, “What do you mean role-playing games?”

Tsubasa slurped some noodles. Yum.

“Classification as a character. Like cleric, paladin, rouge, archer. I liked rouges a lot,” they slipped some more, “I’d probably change the classes to fit this world. Ninja, samurai, Daimyo, rouge-nin, archer?” they slipped some more.

Daichi slurped his own noodles.  
“I should talk to Shikaku about you.”

Shikaku?

Hmm..

Why did that name sound familiar?  
Shikaku… Ayako said something about Shikaku…

Ah!  
“Nara Shikaku, Jōnin Commander? Head of the Nara clan? Take care of the Nara forest? Fond of deer, shogi and drinking? That Shikaku?”

He blinked and stared at them for a minute before blinking once more.  
“How did…”

“I have an information network. I’m aiming to join the police force so it’s good to have a head start, perhaps it will further expand to benefit my friends,” they took a bite, retroactively blowing and fanning their mouth.

“Brat, you should know better. Drink your water,” he said sternly, but there was an undercurrent of gentleness. A tsundere! How fun.

“Hai, hai!” they chugged down half a glass.

“Slow down brat, the food isn’t going anywhere,” he scolded again.

“Hai, hai,” they held their hands up in surrender, picking up their chopsticks and grabbing a bite and blowing on it.

“You know the Military Police is primarily Uchiha right?”

They nodded and they swallowed, “Yeah but that’s gotta change. It’s not good.”

He stared at them as he sipped his sake,  
“The power imbalance.”

“Yeah,” they took a bite, “Thash gunna lea’ ta dishconten’.”

Daichi did not look pleased in the least with their manners but jokes on him, they could be worse. Did he think normal four year olds ate with chopsticks?

“What would you suggest?”

They swallowed.  
“Bureaucratic overhaul. At least three new departments, maybe an additional one in the Hokage office building or whatever it’s called and some Nara, Inuzuka and Yamanaka’s to start, then maybe have non-clan shinobi and other clan-shinobi. Then add another department and add a few civilians.”

“You’ve thought about this.”

Tsubasa nodded, sipping their water, having pushed their tea away (they just couldn’t drink it), “I have. It would make my investigation easier also. Or at least less work for me. Unpaid at that.”

Daichi sighed, “I’ve changed my mind. You cannot under any circumstances meet Shikaku or any Nara.”

“But Daichi-”

“Just eat your food brat, we’ve got work to do.”

Tsubasa nodded sadly and finished their food.

-

Returning to the Police headquarters was a bit of a bother but not enough that Tsubasa was going to complain. Mental stimulation was necessary or else they’d be in their thoughts all day and what a tragedy that would be.

Upon their arrival they spotted a nice black board in a room with the door just barely open on which both their parents photos, crime scene recreations, list of murdered people, autopsy reports and a map with some pin. A nice Big Board, as they were aimable to call it. (They much preferred that over the Wall of Crazy or Conspiracy Board. Besides the concept came from Dr. Stranglove and it’s best to use the name there.) Uchiha Kou definitely deserved a thank you note and some chocolate? They didn’t know but motioned for Daicho to shut the door as he came in.

“This looks wild, Tsubasa,” Daichi oh-so-helpfully offered, shutting the door.

They grinned.  
“It’s only going to get worse. I’ve got some info collecting myself to do and there’s still the motives to identify.”

“Info collecting?”

“Nothing hard, what’s really going to be hard is finding motives for each murder and missing person. Most of these aren't going to be connected to my parents but it's just a little bit of extra work now rather than a lot later so, two birds one stone and all that.”

“Tsubasa, you make no sense.”

“Really? I think I make a lot of sense,” they stared at the board.  
There were alot of murders on the edges of the red light district. And few missing from the neighboring district. It was a good thing Tsubasa had asked for their informants to keep track of any missing people months ago. Nezumi usually updated them on their gang, Lady Rokugo kept tabs on the prostitutes and they kept in touch with Hua from the orphanage. Tsubasa should probably check in tomorrow.

Ah, Tsubasa missed the ease of modern communication, where they could just send a text.  
Thank sweet Amaterasu they had access to books on sealing and chakra theory or they could have never made their telegram-type message board. Or maybe it was more like an etch-a-sketch? They took inspiration from the mirrors in Harry Potter but let visual input.  
What the fuck even was a telegraph?  
Wires and melodic buzzing...Oh, they were morse code, weren’t they?

Anyway, they’d send a message tonight that they’d meet tomorrow, which was…  
Tsubasa looked around for a calendar, spotting one across the room.  
Suiyōbi… which meant tomorrow was Mokuyōbi. Thursday.  
Huh.

“How does work weeks work in Konoha? Are there weekends?”

Daichi stared at them.

“It’s a military state, leave me alone Daichi,” they pouted. They weren’t stupid.

He sighed, “You’re not stupid. You just seem much older so I think you know everything. I’m sorry,” he bowed.

Tsubasa blinked.  
“Uh, yeah,” they brushed a loose hair back, “Thank you.”

He nodded, “Konoha’s work week is five days with a weekend for civilians and in-village shinobi. Missions, of course, ignore that. The police force has shifts and medical has mandatory three day breaks after particularly exhausting healing but typically just a day break otherwise. A lot of restaurants also have their own schedule and the library and shinbi library are open all seven days.”

Tsubasa stared at him.  
“Basically it’s job dependent.”

He nodded.

Huh.

Did that answer their question? Yeah.

“They were murdered within an hour of each other.”

“Huh?”

“Your parents.”

They looked at the reports.

A slit throat, likely kuni. A slow acting poison that caused foam to form.

Almost like a statement.

“Have there been any other shinobi murders?”

Daichi studied them and then looked at the back of the board.  
“Eight over the last six years. There’s a lull in the year of the Yondaime.”

“That’s telling.”

“Someone political then?”

“Must be. It wouldn’t hurt to see if any of these methods match any shinobi in our forces.”

“You’re suggesting treason.”

“I’m suggesting that someone has been murdering good soldiers for power,” they put up the other shinobi who had died. Poison. Sword, but a noted tanto wound that seemed to not have a tip. Kuni. Chakra exhaustion and poison. Elemental shock. Kuni. Sword. Suffocation using wood? “Wood suffocation? How does someone figure that out?”

“The Senju took meticulous note and many Uchiha and Senju medic worked together once upon a time.”

Tsubasa paused.

“Uchiha medics?”

“The Uchiha have a family dedicated to healing, our techniques are very dangerous and costly. The best medic for an Uchiha is an Uchiha.”

“What…” they licked their lips as their throat went dry, “What happened to them?”

“There’s about eight left, two adults, five teens, one kid,” he exhaled heavily looking up, “The war was hard, Tsubasa. And the nine tails attack was harder.”

They nodded muling over the information.  
Wait.

“Wait, isn’t wood release a kekkei genkai?”

Daichi looked at them.  
Blinked.  
Nodded slowly.

“No one has the wood release in Konoha anymore, Tsubasa.”

“Well, clearly they do,” they looked at the report, “Uchiha Sekai. A standard mission to retrieve information from a contact in Shangri-la. Was found three hundred meters from Konoha, dead by suffocation from wood release. Eyes were missing.”  
Daichi blinked.

“How was this missed? This is theft and murder!” His voice seemed to rise in slight aggression.

Tsubasa nodded as they kept reading the report before a pit in their stomach settled. “Shimura Danzo has accepted custody over the orphaned son of Sekai.”

“Danzo,” he gave a hollow laugh, “Of course.”

Shimura Danzo?  
Why did that name matter?

Tsubasa started.

Shimura Danzo.  
Council Elder. Member of the Shimura clan.  
Prone to paranoia, recruiting peripheral clan members and supported Orochimaru,  
Child experiments… Experiments… Covered eye and arm...  
Private branch of ANBU...  
“Daichi. We’re in danger.”

He studied them and nodded slowly.  
“Shimura Danzo survived two wars.”  
A survivor.

“And I am four. An orphan. With no notable features.”  
Easily misplaced.

Daichi ran a hand through his hair before turning to them.  
“Grab that paper, we’re going to Mikoto-sama.”

“What?”  
And then he grabbed them by the neck seam of their jacket and flashed away from the Big Board.

Wack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Medical examiners and corners are two different death investigation systems in the US. To be an ME, you must be a doctor and often it's best to have a focus in pathology. However corners are elected positions. Which means that in some places there's technically a conflict of interests but oh well.  
> Another fun thing to do is look at all police force's websites and look at how they're broken down. The NYPD is really big and has a lot of units but I based the Konoha Police Military Police Force after my own hometown (population of about 300,000) and the big city across the river (pop. about 600000).  
> Also, we'll also address this later but technically the Military Police Force and regular old Police Force are different and have different jurisdictions of power.


	3. Pomegranate and Erika

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pomegranate flower means foolishness in the Victoian language of flowers.  
> Erika means solitude in hanakotoba. 
> 
> Or:  
> Somethimes dumb bitch juice isn’t need to make dumb choices and sometimes lonlieness happens even when interacting with people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Syaoran really just said street smarts all the time to little Tsu. Quote: It's ninja training Ageha, what do you mean they're only three and not going to remember this. Ageha meanwhile was the straight man in this comedic duo and therefore only got to sigh in exasperation.

When Tsubasa’s world stopped rushing past them (similar to the way that when in a car and looking down the earth was a blur but like, around them), they were in front of a rather nice looking house. A traditional Japanese styled house. Minka, they believed it was called. Wood houses supported by wooden pillars with curved roofs, although it had metal shingles, beautiful verandas (porches, a small part of them whispered. Shut up you fool, they're completely different replied every other part.) Daichi knocked on the door and a beautiful woman with what Tsubasa was beginning to recognize as the typical Uchiha appearance, this time with long black hair that fell like a curtain and bangs framing her face.

“Daichi, what brings you-” she stopped as she looked down, “Is this?”

“Hagoromo Tsubasa,” their guardian replied, with absolutely no intonation. Was this a common Uchiha thing? Was this also why they all seemed like such stiffs? 

“Ageha’s kid,” she paused, “I wasn’t informed I’d be taking care of her while Ageha’s off, isn’t Syaoran stationed in the village? Did he have an emergency mission?”

“The Hagoromo couple is dead.”

Oof, way to be blunt Daichi.

“A little tact,” they muttered as they kicked him.

“They’re dead? Ageha and Syaoran?” The woman ignored them (probably for the best, they were kind of an asshole).

Daichi nodded, “Since the beginning of the month. I was informed by Uchiha Akira that it had been three days since an ANBU dropped off two scrolls that seemed to be body scrolls. She contacted the Force when no one came around for a month and hadn’t seen them,” he put a hand on their head.

“The Hokage-”

“Why don’t we take this inside, Mikoto? Tsubasa is a bit of a brat and they need a nap.”

A nap!

How old did-

Ah, actually. That might be nice, they conceded mentelly.

“Right, of course.” She welcomed them both into the genkan, the wood floor being shined to perfection, giving them some guest slippers and motioned Tsubasa into the living room where there was a boy on the floor. Her son? 

He was around three or four with spiky hair, that if they hadn’t adjusted to this world, they would have thought was styled because they lived in some fucking anime logic shit now.

But Tsubasa had made their peace with it.

For the most part.

Hey, it was pretty wack.

“Sasuke,” she called softly, “Come here for a second.”

He immediately looked up from his toys and jumped up “Oh! Who are you?”

They caught Daichi’s eyes, and he nodded.

Tsubasa turned their attention back to the boy in front of them, “I’m Tsubasa,” they paused, “And you are?”

“Uchiha Sasuke!” He smiled, his eyes closing and a faint blush of his cheeks, reminding Tsubasa of porcelain dolls they’d seen in their past life. A baby.

A sweet cinnamon roll.

They would kill everyone in this village and then themself if something happened to him.

“Daichi and I will be in the kitchen, why don’t you two play for a bit?” Mikoto-san smiled sweetly. She looked angelic.

“Okay, Kaa-san!” he cheered and Tsubasa had to think if they had ever been that cheerful.

“Behave, Tsubasa,” Daichi looked at them sternly. 

“I’m always well-behaved,” they pouted.

He arched an eyebrow, clearly alluding to something that they had no idea of. 

They maturely decided to stick out their tongue, eliciting a snort from him and he followed their host into the kitchen, likely to talk about adult things that they would try to figure out later.

“Have you played ninja?” Sasuke asked. They turned their attention back to the boy. 

This shinobi world was really werid and definitly said that the human development rate in their old world was stupid and three year olds should be able to talk like five year olds. 

However, children would always be attracted to games of violence and pretend. Kami knows they were in their last life.

“No,” they titled their head, “Why do you ask?”

“I wanna play!”

Ah, they should have known.

“But I don’t know how?” they gave a faux pout but the boy lit up like Christmas was coming early (was that applicable still? Was there a gift giving holiday? Kami, Tsubasa was never going to leave the library once they found one).

“I’ll teach you!”

Hmm. A tempting offer.

“Okay but then I wanna play the floor is lava!”

“Okay!”

\--

Dinner with the Uchiha matriarch and her son was a pretty nice affair.

“So, Tsubasa have you put any thought into what you want to do?”

They swallowed their bite of tomato.

“I wanna join the Police Force, I think,” they played with the food on their plate, “We’ll have to see how this month goes. I might just-'' die- “go into cryptography or archives.”

“Oh?” Mikoto piled some more rice and stir fried veggies onto their plate, “And why is that?”

Because knowledge is power and I want power is what they wanted desperately to say, but based on Daichi’s glare they couldn’t go with their first thought.

“Because I like to know things,” they went with instead, a bright grin they used on many civilians and totally distracted them. They were just that cute. 

(Though they thought they’d look perfectly average once their baby fat went away. Black hair, brown eyes, olive skin. Oddly enough, pretty close to their last life. Aside from the current bowl cut. Hopefully it would get thicker. They had had thick hair and would like it in this new life.)

She nodded and gave a soft smile of her own.

They thought they heard the Hallelujah chorus, clouds and sunshine illuminating her. 

Hadn’t the sun already set?

Wack.

They tried to make eye contact with Daichi but he was not reciprocating.

Double wack. 

“How old are you Tsubasa?”

“Four,” they said with far more confidence than they had. They were pretty sure that blurry memory in front of a birthday cake was for them. And childhood amnesia hit at like three or so; so.

“Oh? Sasuke is turning three next month, perhaps you could join us for his party?”

They tried to peek at Daichi but he was still shoveling food into his mouth. 

Time for the ol’ razzle dazzle.

“Uh sure, I think I can?” They gave a cute, bashful simper.

“Oh good! Then you can meet Fugaku and Itachi!”

“Where are they, Mikoto?” Ah! Traitor. 

“Fugaku is out of the village on a mission with Hizashi.”

“Hizashi? Why?” Daichi seemed to be invested, seemingly on the edge of his seat. 

“They’re both going to be even busier with clan things and it’s only just now settling down from the Nine-Tails so they figured it was the best time. Fugaku’s been getting more stressed.”

“Hn.”

“And Itachi is on a mission with his team guarding Daimyo.”

“Really?” Tsubasa perked up at that, this was some interesting information that may be important later, “That sounds super important, how old is he?”

“Nii-san is eight!”

Eight?

Kami-sama, that’s young. 

They caught Daichi’s eyes and arched an eyebrow. He unabashedly ignored them.

“What are you interested in doing Sasuke?”

“I wanna be like Nii-san!”

The rest of dinner flowed smoothly.

\--

The following morning, roughly an hour before the sun rose, Tsubasa dressed in a simple ensemble (three quarter length leggings and a t-shirt with a bird) and scampered on outside, the twilight lighting enough for them as they made their way to the Red Light district. 

They came across no one until in the district proper, where customers were coming out of the buildings and making their walks of shame. 

Tsubasa recognised an elder from the council and a store owner that always charged too much. 

“Hato-chan, how nice to see you,” they turned and saw the Lady Rokugo of the Genji establishment. She wore her dark hair in a bun with many hair pins of various designs and her lips, albeit smudged, blood red.

“Good morning, Rokugo-sama,” they greeted formally, with a small bow, “I came early, and I apologize for inconveniencing you, but I believe I can finally do something about the disappearing problem.”

“Oh? It’s only been two weeks. That’s very fast, little bird.”

Tsu-

Hato smiled, “I have had some events that brought attention to myself, but I believe I can use it to solve a few problems, whether or not there is any correlation to my own.”

“Then I suppose you want a list of our missing now?”

“Yes. And if any other establishments would be willing to do the same, I have a scrolls I can leave with you or they can give it in person or through you, I suppose. Whatever works.”

She smiled, looking much more alive and less like a vampire even with her whitened face, “You finally got it figured out, congratulations, Hato-chan,” she bent down to accept the scroll and moved towards her establishment, “I will grab my files and be back.”

“No problem,” they waved off. The sun was rising but not enough to be a worry. Tsubasa hadn’t done their hair or washed up this morning so they looked scruffy enough no one was questioning anything.

Tsubsa had been rather careful with constructing their cover. 

Hato, a seven year old orphan, intered in police work and helping people. Vague and true.

And it helped that they had been using it for five months. 

“Thank you in advance, Hato-chan.” she handed them the papers, “I have a meeting later today with the other member of the Entertainment committee and shall inform them of someone taking action.”

“That would be most appreciated, thank you,” they waved and made their way down the street a bit before turning down an alley.

“Nezumi-chan? It’s Hato?” they announced softly, careful to keep their voice low and gentle so as not to startle the kid.

“Hato-senpai? You didn’t come yesterday,” Nezumi emerged from the cracks of a building, a bar? Tsubasa had never actually taken care to notice in the last few months.

“Ah, sorry, I had something come up. I’m all cool now though.There been any other missing folks?”

“A few bodies showed up, some of my crew were able to get pics before the MP’s showed up,” Nezumi shrugged, “It was pretty brutal apparently, Tsuru wouldn't let anyone take a look.”

Tsubasa raised an eyebrow but held out a hand, to which Nezumi responded by placing a 6x4 manila envelope in with an eager grin.

“Thanks. I’ll be back in three to six days at Tsubaki,” Tsubaki being the next coded place on the list, a nightclub actually called Mumoji. 

Nezumi nodded and promptly disappeared down into the cracks.

They’d make a good ninja. 

Huh. Maybe that’s why the street urchins were disappearing.

Tsubasa decided to ignore the thought for now (and the intrusive thought that they had the same thought as a child kidnapper), instead focusing on getting home before the morning came.

‘ _Side streets, quick leaps, use the shadows to your advantage, Tsubasa. This is infiltration_.’ Their father’s voice rang in their mind. Syaron was a pretty good teacher they supposed, even dead. Using stories was an excellent way to teach words of wisdom from the grave. 

They sighed, looking up at the brightening blue sky with no cloud in sight, and made their way back home.

\--

To their greatest surprise, as they climbed back into their room Daichi was in front of the window.

“Where were you?” He didn’t sound angry, per say. 

“Collecting information?” Tsubasa tried to smile.

“Tsubasa, you can’t just go out on your own!” Upset? 

“But-” they tried to interject.

“Tsubasa we are investigating something very dangerous and you are a child! You could have gotten hurt!”

They blinked.

Oh.

He was worried.

“I’m sorry for not realising that I could have worried you.”

At this, he let his hand flop away from his hair and studied them. His eyes had a look that they couldn’t quite place.

Befuddlement? Like they were a shitty puzzle and he had a monopoly piece. 

Maybe they were thinking too much too early.

He exhaled heavily.

“This is Shisui,” he gestured to a boy (where he came from, they didn’t know. Shinobi) with short, unkempt, dark-coloured hair, black eyes and a relatively broad nose and well-defined eyelashes, that were rather pretty, “He will be your guard while I’m doing my own work and checking security.”

“How do you know he’s not a Danzo puppt?” Tsubasa scrunched their nose.

“He’s an Uchiha.”

“So?” They crossed their arms.

“Tsubasa,” he sighed, “The longer I’m here the longer any new information could get compromised. I’ll inform the Force that you being seriously involved is classified. You’ll work from home and I’ll bring the Big Board home as well with copies.”

They stuck out their tongue. 

“Like a brat in gonna keep me safe from the boogey man.”

“Tsubasa, that brat served in the last war”

“But he’s like ten.”

“Thirteen.”

“Nice try brat,” he snorted and turned his attention back to Tsubasa, “He’s eleven, Tsu.”

Eleven! Eleven and already served in a war-

“Tsu?” They turned to Daichi.

“Well Tsubasa is a mouthful,” he gave a small smile. How sweet. They were really making this kuudere open up. At least, they thought that was the classification, They really only knew the obvious ones. 

“Haha,” they glared, “Go die Daichi,” and promptly flopped onto their bed.

He looked at Shisui.

“Take care of the brat.”

Brat? How dare he! They were a delight!

He flashed away with his stupid ninja trick before they could say such.

“Tsubasa huh?” This ‘Shisui’ voiced unhelpfully and unprompted..

They raised an eyebrow and bounded off their bed and out the door. 

“Not so talkative now that Ojisan is gone?”

They made their way down the hall, stairs and went into the kitchen. 

“He made you sound like you never shut up.”

They grabbed a plate and a knife.

“Surely it must grate your nerves to suddenly have someone new in your house.”

They shrugged and grabbed a slice of bread and some jam. 

“Do you enjoy being told what to do?”

They spread the jam on the bread and folded it in half.

“You’re a pretty boring kid.”

They shrug and take a bite of their sandwich.

“Do you have anything to say at all, Tsu-chan?”

They threw the knife at him without a thought. He caught it but jam ended up on his uniform and face.

They couldn’t hold in their laughs.

“Ha ha. Very funny,” he smiled.

“It is,” they grinned, “In fact, I find it hilarious.”

He playfully rolled his eyes.

“So what have you been doing the past month?”

“Depends on the day. Flower shop, cemetery, groceries, nap, clean, eat, study, read, draw,” Tsubasa counted off on their hands. Huh, only seven things. 

“I meant for fun,” Shisui seemed to try to smile but didn’t feel the vibe.  
  


“Read or draw,” and admittedly that was a little sad.

But there weren't any anime. Or at least they didn’t have a tv. 

“What do you read?”

They grinned. 

“History, fiction, historical fiction, there's a few mystery novels I’ve read. Dad liked them but mom didn't really like reading.”

Indeed, Syaoran loved reading. Although for some godforsaken reason he liked horror novels. Ageha hated reading.

“When did you learn to read?”

“A few months ago.”

Syaron and Ageha were around a lot when they were younger, they think. Not that they could know for sure due to childhood amnesia but they knew the couple had loved and loved them. 

Probably.

Hopefully.

Otherwise .

Wack.

“Hmm, we should play a game,” He tapped his chin, “Or go swimming. The Naka is pretty nice this time of year and it’s not super hot yet so there shouldn’t be a lot of people.”

“But I wanna stay inside.”

“It's a nice day! Come on!”

“I think I'd rather die.”

“Tsu-” he choked out as he laughed, “Tsubasa no!”

“Suit yourself Shisui, I’m staying inside.”

“No honorifics?”

“You're far too much of a bother to receive any respect.”

“Hurtful.”

“And not untrue,” Tsubasa would have shrugged but it didn’t really work while laying on a couch, “Get over it.”

“You’re a cruel child. I should drop you off with the Nara’s. They know how to handle lazy kids.”

“If you let me stay inside I'll give you four explosion seals.”

“What.”

“What?”

“Tsubasa you shouldn’t go through your parents' things! What if there were traps?”

“There were. I set them on fire.” A rather nice fire too. They put it in a pan and made smores.

“What.”

“What?”

“Tsubasa, I want you to talk me through everything that you have done the past month.”

“That’s a long story,” they sat up and shrugged, “Well, I received the scrolls and after the ANBU fucked off I cried for like… five hours? Something like that. And I ate some rice and cried. I took a bath and cried. I think I ate a cookie? And cried. And then I went into town and a kid told me kids go missing and I should get home to my parents and I ended up going hom and the next day I got groceries and snuck back into my house.”

“I made some cookies and went over the information I had and decided I needed more. I went into my dad's drawer and grabbed a knife and made my way to the red light district,” they tapped their chin, recollecting things that hadn’t been filed was hard.

“I met Nezumi and gave cookies for info,” they had thought it cute at the time. Cookies for crucial information. But now they realised it was food that was the big deal. Not so cute.

“They told me kids like us go missing. That I should be careful of shadows.” Now they worried who else could take advantage and how much danger Nezumi was in for helping them.

“The next day I went through all of my parents shit. Swords, knives, kuni, scrolls. Mom liked sealing so I started on that. I really like it. It’s like drawing but with intent. I use stars as my base. Mom used swirls but I suck at those. I’ve created my own explosive seal and communication seal. I’m working on a seal with triggers.” Thankfully, sealing was talked about a lot in the Hagoromo house prior to their parents going off and getting murdered in a political plot. So they’d had the basics but in their own studying; sealing was all about intent and design. Like… runes. Or computer coding? They didn’t know much about computers though. Although, it was also similar to alchemy from FullMetal Alchemist. Which, now that they had made that connection opened up-

“Tsubasa, please stay with me,” Shisui interrupted.

“Ah right, that night I met with Nezumi and made contact in a brothel and then asked around town with a disguise the next afternoon. I got a feel for everything and then studied and met with my contact and created a schedule.”

“Oh?”

“I see Nezumi every two to three days. I meet with my brothel contact once a week and an academy contact on the weekends.”

“All levels huh?”

“All the ones at risk.”

“Well,” he paused, probably not sure how to respond, “What do you want to do now then?”

“Nap,” they flopped onto their couch without a care.

He stared at them.

“When are you going to do your work?”

“Probably one.”

“What.”

“Ah, you haven't met a procrastinator before huh? I know I seem old but I’ve always been a child at heart,” they simpered.

He blinked.

“That makes you sound even older,” he paused, “but you’re four.”

Daichi must not have told him.

How trustworthy was this Shisui really then, Daichi?

They closed their eyes and left thoughts of danger behind. 

\--

When Tsubasa woke from their nap, groggy and disoriented, they saw Shisui laying down half on, half off them still on the couch. A plus. They hadn’t been kidnapped or spirited away.

They also noted the tanto was in easy grabbing distance and how the left arm was laying over them. 

So he was useful after all. 

“Have a nice nap?” they heard the pre-teen ask. Or was eleven a tween? Baby. They didn’t remember being eleven. Nope, not at all. 

“I suppose,” they yawned, “What's the time?

“Twelve.”

“Hm,” they dragged it out as they mulled over their thoughts that were still in desarry from sleep, “I want dango. And udon!”

“I can’t leave you and we can't leave the compound, Tsu-chan.”

They scrunched their nose, but ignored the nickname, “Why the fuck not? You wanted to go swimming or whatever.” 

“That’s within the compound!” 

“What’s the difference?”

“Well, your work is pretty sensitive and-”

They grinned to themself, “So you’re a pussy, okay,” they shrugged, now straight faced.

“What,” Shisui stopped himself and looked at them.

“You heard me,” they crossed their arms, an air of nonchalance surrounding them.

“I am a-”

“Pussy.”

“Tsu, I'm not playing these games.”

“Pussy.”

He sighed and combed his hand through his hair, “Alright fine, we’ll go out. But you hold my hand.”

Sure, no loss to me, lets go

As they locked the door they noted they would probably need new security seals, as it looked like Daichi broke one to let Shisui in without them letting him in.

But they would just need a temp one for now.

They drew a five point star and started the circle from the last point without lifting their finger, and then drew a line of symmetry, the whole time focusing their chakra on the barrier.

“That… that is impressive Tsubasa.”

“It’ll hold while we get lunch,” they shrugged,”No big deal.”

They grabbed his hand (and noted how calloused it was along his pinky) and dragged him to the udon shop they had found a few days ago.

“Tsu-can slow down, he laughed, I don't want trip over you-”

“Ohiyo Hato-chan!” An older lady named Fuzeka Re, whose once brown hair had fully gone grey, greeted them. 

“Ohiyo Fu-baa-san!” They cheered, still holding Shisui’s hand, leading him to the sweet old lady.

“Are you off to Sei-chan’s shop with…” she scratched her head, “Is that Kagami’s boy?”

“Hai!” They jumped excitedly, “Shi-chan hasn’t been yet and I'm hungry!”

She laughed, and turned to Shisui with her eyes a little sharper and beadier, “You take care of Hato-chan now. I knew your father.”

Shisui blinked and nodded rapidly, “Hai!”

She laughed patting him on the head, “You two might want to get going, Sei-chan might be busy.”

“Hai!” Tsubasa sang, “See you later, baa-chan!” They grabbed Shisui’s hand a little tighter and dragged him away laughing.

And once out of earshot Shisui opened his mouth.

“Hato-chan?”

They rolled their eyes, “My cover obviously. Keep up Shi-chan,” they looked him over, “I was hoping you might be helpful but maybe I didn’t think everything through,” Tsubasa rubbed their chin with their forefinger and thumb.

Perhaps this was childish impatience or perhaps this was their personality...

They titled their head.

Shichi was eleven, a chunin and had fought in the last war.

A real-life in-the-flesh child soldier.

Hmm… was there therapy? 

Wait…

Were they going to need therapy?????

?????

That would be a problem for future-Tsubasa then.

Right.

Back on track.

Shisui.

He seemed smart enough, perhaps he would be helpful for their investigation.

“Hey, Hato-chan, where are we going?”

Ah. Maybe not.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nezumi and Lady Rokujo are informants, specifically Confidential Human Resources, for Tsubasa. Their motives are pretty obvious, life preservation. Literature nerd might note Lady Rokujo as a character for The Tale of Genji, which is made more obvious by the name of her establishment. I would recommend the story just to read during these trying times. 
> 
> On the note of Tsubasa saying they only knew four people earlier that just me. It like, oh I have two friends and then the six people I'm sitting with are like what are we and I'm like oh yeah. I don't think anyone will do this in universe but Tsu is defiantly still like, I have no friends while Nezumi, Sasuke and Shisui are standing next to them. It might be the protagonist disease.
> 
> Not much cop stuff but next chapter... Lot's.


	4. Red Carnations and Asagao

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red Carnations meaning 'my heart breaks' in the Victorian language of flowers.  
> Asagao meaning willful promises in hanakotoba. 
> 
> Or:  
> Sometimes you feel those sad boi hours but making friends through trauma is an age old coping mechanism.

The somewhat matching pair reached the udon shop within minutes, not passing 

“Hato-chan, is that you?” A sweet voice greeted them both as they entered.

“Sei-baa-chan!” Tsubasa greeted excitedly, “Hai! I’m with Shi-chan! We met today while I was playing!”

“Oh? Is he keeping you safe, Hato-chan?”

“Ie! I’m a big kid! I can take care of myself!”

“Hai, hai,” she appeared from behind the noren, “Ah, Uchiha Shisui. You were in my brother’s graduating class.”

The boy looked to Tsubasa, clearly expecting support.

Should they?

“Shi-chan is very nice to me and a good senpai!” They gave a sing-song quality to their voice, “Please be nice to him.”

“Hai, Hato-chan,” she smiled and Shisui releaxed. What a baby. “What will you be eating today?”

“Some teriyaki chicken udon and curry udon please!” Sei-chan nodded and dashed away, Tsubasa was always impressed with her speed. 

“I don’t like curry,” the Uchiha boy whined (admittedly, it wasn’t really a whine. Shisui was not so bratty but… He was testing them and therefore did not deserve nice words). 

“Bold of you to assume either of those were for you. I ordered for myself,” they grinned impishly, “I’m hungry.”

The teen seemed to be having a processing error but that was none of their business, and they gratefully accepted the udon when Sei-chan came back, the teriyaki udon out and the curry udon in a to-go container.

“W-what do I eat?” he finally seemed to recover.

“Something,” they shrugged, “But that’s not my problem,” they took a bite of the chicken. Yum.

The boy stared at them, and they continued to eat their teriyaki udon contemplating Yu-Gi-Oh.

How many Blue-Eyed White were there? Was there four or five? Could they theoretically make Yu-Gi-Oh but with actual summing and battles? If they could summon a fucking dragon-

“Hato-chan, please order for me!” Shicchi whined, literally taking them out of their thoughts by poking their cheek.

“Ugh,” they raised their hand and waved for Sei-chan’s attention. She acknowledged them and made her way over. 

“Shicchi, what would you like to eat?” they said as sweetly as they could, and it felt as if their voice grated their face and throat. Why was Hato so sweet and energetic with villagers? Why was that what they went with? They could hold this cover for whole days! And now Hato was with an Uchiha, a CLAN SHINOBI. All caps. 

Oh bother.

“Su udon, please Hato-chan!” He sign-songed like the pest he was already turning to out be.

“Su udon, please Sei-chan,” they grinned at the woman who thankfully smiled and patted them on the head and went back to the kitchen. 

“You owe Hato-chan, Shicchi,” they slurpped a noodle, “Hato-chan is sweet and pleasant but you test Hato-chan.”

He smiled, “Cute Hato-chan,” but didn’t say anymore as Sei-chan came back with his udon, although she set it in front of them instead of Shicchi.

Must be a grudge.

“Thank you!” They grinned at her, deeply wishing they could also be petty, but alas Hato-chan was sweet and kind and enthusiastic. 

A bummer. 

Tsubasa was at their core, lazy, cunning, opinionated, perhaps a tad stubborn. Or so they heard. They didn’t think they were. 

But they were a ‘work smarter, not harder’ type of person. And they had no shame in that. 

They heard a clank and looked down to see that they had eaten all their chicken. And they hadn’t even registered it. They grabbed a noodle with their chopsticks and shoved it in the mouth. 

Fresh noodles were always the best.

Tsubasa (Hato-chan) knew that Sei-chan got her noodles from Yochigi Kuzu, whose family had long been in the business of making noodles. Kuzu was good at his job and there were no complaints. But he had had a younger brother who was a shinobi. Unfortunately, the kid had died in the… Kyuubi attack, if they remembered correctly. The kid had been a recent chunin. He gave Sei-chan a discount because of her restaurant being geared for young shinobi of civilian descent. She started the business when her brother started the Academy because he needed a lot of calories and she needed more food and money. Restaurants buy in bulk afterall. Winners all around. 

Except with two dead brothers now.

They swallowed the rest of their soup to block out the thoughts.

They needed to focus.

Was Shisui going to benefit or be a detriment to their investigation?

They stared at him. Curly black hair? Or was it wavy? And fluffy? Clear skin that was pale (which how? Tsubasa was already getting pretty tan and they weren’t even outside all that often) and good bone structure. They also noted he had rather pretty eyes and eyelashes that were… very nice. He gave off a nice, cheerful boy aura as natural as he breathed. They were almost jealous.

A child soldier was a con, but that was also the standard. 

Being cheerful was a pro, made him approachable if they needed to interact with people.

However, another con, he was a clan shinobi. 

But he was also another brain.

And was likely trustworthy.

But there was a possibility of him being a snitch 

“Shicchi, are you done?” 

He looked at them, as if he had forgotten they were there, but silly boy. They could see the look in his eyes. The calculation and assessment of themself in his eyes.

“Hai!” he downed the last of it faster than they could blink. 

A pro. 

“Yay! Let’s go home!” They grabbed their curry and his hand, waving goodbye with his hand and theirs to Sei-chan, “Bye Sei-chan! See you next week!”

“Bye Hato-chan!” 

Leaving the cozy restaurant, Tsubasa took stock of themself and Shicchi. 

They had their curry ramen and twenty ryo. That was enough wasn’t it? Dango in Japan were like 120 yen right? And then to ryo is… ten to one? So… Twelve? Twelve ryo? They could afford that. Save the extra. Hide it. 

Smart, smart. Good choice.

“Let’s get dango, Shicchi!” they sing-songed, swinging his arm like a brat. 

Oh wait. 

They were a brat.

“Don’t you need to get home, Hato-chan?” Shicchi seemed to be nervous. A pity, they weren’t going to be nice to him.

“Nope! I want dango!” Tsubasa fekt their voice pitch into a whine and decided to ignore it for the sake of their dignity, “I’m getting dango. You can come or not. I don’t care,” they pulled their hand away from his and skipped away, still mindful of their curry ramen. 

“Ah-uh, Tsu-chan,” he slipped his hand back into theirs, “No can do. You gotta stick with me till I take you home, ‘k?” He smiled at them, and they swore they saw a flash of red. 

“Uh, okay?” They tilted their head. 

What a weirdo. 

“Now we’re going to head home-”

They shook their head, “Nope. Dango. I want dango, we can have secrecy there. The old lady who runs my favourite one is deaf.”

He blinked, looking almost startled. 

“Hato-chan has gots way too much to do Shicchan! Let’s get dango now,” and dear kami, they stomped their foot. Hato-chan was not pleased!

He blinked again, and a slow smile grew across his face. Far too smug for their comfort. So damn smug it might’ve been the Cheshire Cat. 

“If you have so much to do, why get dango at all, Hato-chan?”

They stared at him. 

Yeah, alright. He was good to go.

“Aw~...” they trailed off cutely, “But I don’t want to go home. There’s nothing sweet!” They pouted, like a child. At least, they hoped so. 

What even were four year olds? 

Shisui grinned, “We can make cookies at home, Hato-chan. I’ll even let you eat two,” he held up a peace sign. Ah wait. No, that was for the number of cookies. 

Kami-sama, they needed a nap.

“Hai!” They saluted in excitement, a giant grin on their face that hopefully looked more innocent than manic. They sure felt manic. 

And then in a fash, they were in front of their house again.

Ninja tricks. 

“You gonna let us in?” Shisui grinned wryly, making them crinkle their nose. 

Well, not make but was their response to it.

“Give me a goddamn minute, asshole,” they elected to curse in English (Kumo or Uzo, whatever it was called here, they really didn't care. It was English)

Tsubasa put their hand on the door, feeling the chakra in the seal, unlocking the seal. Kamisama, the logic behind that hurt their tiny little brain. Made them glitch. Twitch. Both at the same time. 

“Come in,” they gestured, limply, “Mi casa es su casa.”

He seemed to be staring at the door and the lines of chakra from the seal.

“They’ll fade in a hot minute, Shisui, just wait,” and it did.

“Seals don’t really work like this? I’m just kinda intrigued,” he scratched the back of his neck. 

They arched an eyebrow and made their way into the kitchen to grab a juice box- ooh apple!

“Ya want something to drink?” They called out to the boy. 

“Juice boxes? You really are a kid.”

“Fuck off off or be helpful, don’t test me,” they glared. Or tried. They were 

He grinned, unforgivingly smug, “But I thought you already approved of me helping you with your investigation.”

Damn, he knew.

They scoffed, “Yeah, doesn’t mean I need your shitty commentary, I can do that on my own, thanks,” they punched their straw into the juice box and angrily took a sip, he held up his own hands in surrender with a small bemused expression, “You know what’s going on with this investigation, ne?”

Shisui responded with a rueful smile.

“Dai-ji-san told me it was dangerous and up to you if I could help, and that I shouldn’t pressure you. But you've been testing me this whole time.”

Ah, he did have a brain. A plus. 

They resisted the urge to smile broadly in pride.

“Indeed,” they gave a nod, “I have. I’m not quite sure if I’m sold on letting you help?”

“Would it help to talk out your thoughts?” He proposed, like a genius. 

Control your emotions Tsubasa. 

“If you were willing to listen and not try to persuade me, I might be amiable.” 

“Sure,” he agreed without a second of hesitation.

They stared before deciding this boy drank the dumb bitch juice. 

“On one hand, you’re smart and capable, a veteran of the last war and have demonstrated the ability to deduce as well as quick thinking and adableility. On the other hand, you are a clan shinobi, you are young and also probably a snitch. This is a very sensitive case and I need to be able to trust that you can help and not compromise anything.”

He nodded slowly.

“There’s nothing I can say beyond the obvious that won’t sound like persuasion but Tsubasa I am a shinobi and I can handle all of the caveats that come with classified missions and information that is not mine to share.”

They felt their lips quick to the side, “But this is not an order from your Hokage. You are not legally bound to me. You have no reason to give me loyalty. I’ve done nothing to deserve it.”

At this Shisui seemed… stupefied? Floored? Definitely speechless. 

Tsubasa hadn’t gotten used to magic- sorry, chakra enough to feel through that (sense? Was that the word?) for his precise emotions.

“I understand Diachi asked you to babysit me, I understand that even beyond the last war, you’re stupid high in the ranks. I’m just a kid who’s hopefully smart enough to find proof for a few murders and organise some paperwork. My life and many others’ relies on this investigation and it could kill me,” and maybe it would. But they were willing to take that bullet for Sasuke. And Nezumi. If they had to. Like abso-fucking-lutly had to. A last resort really-

“Tsubasa, you’re like what? Five?” 

Four going on… Twenty-five? Huh, they didn’t remember much about that part of their life, perhaps some filing may be necessary. 

“Regardless, if you’d like the help, I’m willing. I can give you my word, I can-” he paused and studied them, “Tsubasa. I graduated from the academy at age seven during the war. My best friend and I were placed on the same team. We were incredibly happy, we worked well together and trusted each other with everything, and had each other's back.”

Oh, damn. Tragic backstory unlocked.

“We made it through the war and he died so I didn’t. He died for me.”

Tsubasa barley resisted the urge to scream 

“I met Itachi at the age,” oh, we’re gonna gloss that over, huh? “Of nine. He’s a genius. Brilliant and so, so very smart,” his voice seemed to waver as he choked up, “And then I finally became a chūnin.”

Was this normal? Like, Tsubasa knew they overshared but that was like. Being gay and tramua- ah. That’s fair. Their tragic backstory wasn’t even on the friendship scale, it was just a casual get to know sort of thing.

Ooh, maybe they needed therapy still. Heh ha...

Yikes.

  
  


“My father died last year. My mom and I were just waiting for it. He lost his leg in the last war,” kamisama, “He couldn’t recognise me. Complications. It was fine. I got it. Everyone dies someday.”

“You either kill yourself or get killed,” they gave a sage nod. 

Oh no. 

Oh sweet Amaterasu. 

That was not the right response. 

“I mean, wow, it really do be like that,” nope, still not right, try again, “That’s unfortunate.”

They groaned into their hands, before looking up to make eye contact with the boy.

“I get it. I feel you. And I know it sucks ass,” they held out their hand for comfort. 

A slow blink and then another faster one and another even faster and suddenly there were tears falling from his eyes. Oh dear.

“I’m sorry? Did I misspeak?” They brushed his tears away gently studying his face, round still with baby fat and soft. 

He gave a little huff, still crying, as a small drolle smile crossed his face.

“Thanks Tsu-chan.”

Alright, Shicchan, whatever. Go off. 

“Okay Shicchan,” they whispered, much softer than they had intended. It came out gently, with a promise lingering in the air. Of what, they didn’t know but based on the way he cried harder was received. They embraced him tightly, “Okay.”

-

It took an hour or so for him to regain equilibrium. 

“DId you know crying releases a chemical that makes you feel better? It’s why after crying even though you feel tired you feel better. But you should drink some water.”

He chuckled.

“Do you cry a lot Tsu-chan?”

“No. I’m pretty chill.”

He stared at them. 

“It’s what a therapist said once,” and wow, not a lie. Nice job, Tsubasa. 

“Tsu-”

Thankfully he was interrupted by a very important person entering through the door without a problem (which nice job getting him queued into the seal Tsubsa, a point in the win column). 

“Daichi! You’re back!” They unwrapped themself from Shisui and bounced up to him.

“I’m home,” he simpered, although they could see exhaustion clinging to his frame like miasma. Yikes. 

“Tadaima,” they grabbed his hand gently, and studied him. He was maybe late 20’s, early thirties. Had seen war and multiple comrades die. Had seen his village in destruction and was now being faced with the failures of his fellows on home soil, within the safety of their walls...

Must feel pretty shitty. He looked wearied, anyhow. 

“Did you spend any time on the Big Board?”

They smiled tightly, “Hai, there’s a lot missing so I’m still not quite sure which people belong where. I’ve got two lists with a minimum of twenty people.”

“Big board?” Shisui asked, to which they quickly spun to look at him. 

“Yes, a big board of information,” they spun back to face Daichi, “I need to look at all the information in context to find any working theory.”

“Well, I received all of the photos from all of the murders, and autopsies all of the murders within the last twenty years, several have been marked with solved or domestic spats.”

“Ah, that’s more common than I would like,” Tsubasa sighed.

“Also, all the official missing persons files, some have been marked suspicious, others that seemed to be related to family disputes were marked as such.

“That’s good work, who did it?” 

“Jiro,” Daichi pinned it up. They elected to nod like that name meant something.

“And that’s everything new, Kou is still sketching out some scenes and I have a few people going through records to check if they’ve been tampered or stolen.”

“Nice,” Tsubasa raised their eyebrows and clapped. It really was impressive, especially considering this was not strictly mandatory. But Tsubasa also liked to have more information than strictly necessary just in case (not because they were nosy or anything what?).

“What is this?” Shisui finally spoke up.

“Ah, Shicchan, this is the Big Board,” they gestured to the mess of pins and pictures, as they both watched Daichi pin the new information into the categories..

“Yeah, that’s a lot of information,” he simpered. 

“Yeah,” they looked it over, “That’s a new photo. Haven’t seen it from that angle,” They stared some more, “It’s weird, these murders don’t match these ones.” 

“Yeah? Like a different person sort?” Shisui tilted his head.

“Nah, like… People kill for different reasons right? Jealousy, money, work, pleasure, et cetera. But these, “ gesture “are all clearly defined jobs. Clean. Clinical. Limited evidence.”

“But these are bloody and theatrical.”

“Yeah.”

“It could be a shinobi, sometimes jobs detail that it’s supposed to be misleading.”

They hummed and looked for the full paper on the floor.

“Ah-ha!” They uncovered it, “Semen found on thigh and womb shredded by a knife,” they looked at Shisui, “Even if this is a shinobi this isn’t a job. This is release.”

“So… Two different cases?”

“Yeah. I’d go with that for now. There might be another, we’d have to look at a date and method but for now, two is fine. However, there’s the matter of missing people. And I can’t speak of any relation there, we really need to lay it out.” 

“Can you expand on who’s missing?”

They nodded still looking at the board, “They’re mostly homeless, poor or working in the red light district. Not very trackable,” they tapped their chin, “We can put them into categories and then organise by date and then get another map and plot locations.”

“Tsubasa you can tell him your theory,” Daichi said.

“Alright, so based on some info I’ve got we know who’s behind the organised plot, but the matter is finding proof and filtering the other crimes. The addituonal missing persons and serial murder cases aren’t techincally under my purview but-”

“You and I will be handling them,” Daichi interrupted looking Shisui in the eye.

“Hey! Why can’t I?” Tsubasa interjected.

“Tsubasa, how old was that murder rape victum you mentioned to Shisui?”

They read through the paperwork again.

Oh.

“Eight.”

He nodded, “I allowed you to help with organizing due to you knowing how, but Shisui and I will handle the field aspect and paperwork for these cases. You are only in charge of your parents missing will and that is all you will do. ”

What?

“Officially, this is just Shisui and I with some input from you.”

Ah.

“Well, duh. Why didn’t you say so.” they were four? There was no way they could fight

“You’re not going to do anything without us. More speciality, that means you have to cease contact with anyone when not with us or someone we don’t know, especially on your own. Do not sneak out Tsubasa.”

“What about-” 

“NO SNEAKING OUT TSUBASA.”

They couldn’t resist the automatic flinch.

Yikes. 

“Yessir!” 

He sighed heavily. 

“I’m sorry. I am hungry and stressed but I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

They stared at each other, and out of the corner of their eye they saw Shisui awkwardly shift side to side like an awkward twelve year old. Which… he was. Or like pretty close. Ten, right?

Daichi inhaled and exhaled deeply.

“Let’s all go to Mikoto’s.”

“Oh, uh-” they blinked and looked to Shisui and to the board. 

“The work will be here in the morning.”

“But…” they gazed at the board. They were missing something. And yeah, it wasn’t their fucking job but maybe if they found that, they’d find the will? That’s how it went in the movies, right? Were the kami of this world nice enough to allow them that? Were they once again blessed with miraculous luck? They were owed that right?

“It’s dinnertime Tsubasa.”

“Oh?” They titled their head. Was it? It felt like they had just had lunch. 

“Yeah.”

“Neato,” they nodded sagely, but Daichi once again picked them up like a sack of potatoes and held them on his shoulder. 

“Shisui, follow me,” he muttered walking out of the house. 

“Hai, ojisan.” he followed like a ducking out of the house (pausing to close the ward) and the trio made their way to Mikotosama’s, walking for once. 

The evening was warm, humid and generally nice, even with the rather cacophonous sound of mixing frogs and cicadas. They didn’t know that was a thing. 

“Shisui, why don’t you go ahead and warn Mikoto we’re coming?” Daichi 

“Hai!” the boy ran ahead with a little smile.

“What did you do that for, Daichi?”

“Why are you being a brat?”

They wrinkled their nose, “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Tsu-”

They both reached the house and Tsubasa elected to interrupt Daichi to greet Mikoto-sama.

“Hi Mikoto-sama, you don't mind us for dinner, do you?” they gave a small smile.

A stare.

“No, I suppose not,” she said after a beat as a smile came to her face, “Set them down Daichi, don’t you know how to handle children?”

He opened his mouth as he set them down, probably to reply but Mikoto-sama continued to talk to them while completely ignoring Daichi.

“How was your day Tsubasa?’

“Ah, I took a nap, went out for lunch and did a puzzle!” They grinned and bounced excitedly.

“A puzzle?”

“Hai!”

“Tsu chan! Let’s play ninja!” Sasuke cheered running up to greet them in the entrance way.

“After dinner, Sasuke.”

“Okay!” he grinned and dragged them to the dining table. 

They played for a while and suddenly the sun was gone and it was when Sasuke was nearly falling asleep while sitting that they all said goodnight, Daichi holding them in his arms and Shisui following them both to the Hagoromo house.

Yet it’s as they lay in their bed at night that Tsubasa thinks over the past month. 

Maybe the stress was getting to them, maybe they missed their parents. 

They missed hugs. They missed their dad picking them up, hugging them tight, carrying them around, they missed laughing with him.

They missed his cooking, even his mustache and scratchy beard that pricked when they were pressed against his face. 

They wanted him.

But they had died. 

And Syaoran was so good- somewhere between doting and serious. He liked to whisper little lessons as they laid down for bed. ‘Tsubasa, here’s how you break into a nobleman’s house’ and ‘Tsu-chan, if there’s a mugger toss your money purse and run in the opposite direction’ and “Musume, if you’re ever in danger scream and bite.’

It was rather sweet. 

But he was dead. 

And now they were alone in their room. No one for company. No cat, no dog, not even a fish to admire as it swam about. 

“Papa…” they murmured as tears pooled in their eyes. They tried to ignore the tightening in their chest, and the heat. It stung. Papa and Tou-san were good, warm and home- and they so badly wanted home. To not feel that aching loneliness, the fear of being kidnapped and no one caring, the haunting image of their own body covered in their own blood and organs. 

“Tsubasa?” they heard Daichi murmur behind their door.

They just sobbed harder. 

“Oh Tsu…” he wrapped his arms around them, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m never gonna see Papa or Tou-san, and- and I miss them,” they sniffled as their tears continued to fall and nose was now running, “I really really miss them.”

“Tsubasa?” They heard Shisui groggily say, which made them feel awful for interrupting his sleep. “What’s going on?”

“Everything’s catching up to them.”

“Aw, Tsu-chan,” he sat on the bed and embraced them as well, “I thought you said you were too chill to cry.”

They felt themself snort, “I lied.”

He hummed and rubbed their back.

“That’s okay. I’m here for you too.”

Daichi stroked their hair, “We both are. Nothing is going to happen to you. You’re not alone.”

And for the first time in awhile, Tsubasa felt warm inside even as tears ran down their face and sobs racked their body.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said we'd get to police stuff but I didn't realize that people had emotions so, that's on me. There's a lot of build up that has to happen and ugh. Also, fun fact, bonding over shared trauma is normal. I asked my therapist. There's something about someone laying themself bare that just *chef kiss*. 
> 
> Also. I thought I'd reach Shikaku but...  
> He will appear next chapter. Not that I have faves or anything.  
> Is ninja DND a thing? Not yet, but Tsubasa is a nerd and they are going to have a DND night once all this shenanigans dies. Give it some odd chapters.


End file.
